Roleplay IV

Why? Lizzy took out the clear windstone pendent and felt all of its intricate designs with her fingers, amazed by the simple beauty of it. This was her gift to her from Warwick, but she couldn't help feeling a recoiling sensation. His general had once held this very stone. Nothing could change this. But still... this was her ticket home when she needed it. Lizzy lifted the windstone up to her lips and softly kissed it, then neatly tucked the pendent back into her light armor and out of view. She rested her elbows on the table with the palms of her hands resting against her forehead.

Clatter-clang! Lizzy flinched so badly that she nearly fell out of her chair with her weapons in hand, and she blushed fiercely when she realized that the sound was only a pan that a cooking bear had accidentally dropped. She sheathed her weapons and leaned onto the table, hunched-over. The background noise of Northguard had faded into a pulsing drum that was ready to split her eardrums, it seemed. She covered her ears with her hands, but then immediately took them off so as to know if danger was approaching.

Lizzy turned and gazed out of the window to where the wolf had attacked Warwick. Where she had abandoned him. In her mind's eye, she replayed the events, wincing each time Warwick was struck. She gasped and flinched back to reality when it felt like the wolf had used Warwick's Tiger Claws to strike her in the back, and she arched her back sharply, jerking to turn and look behind her. It was only her imagination.

Pathetic. Spat that harsh voice in her mind.

I don't care! Lizzy mentally shouted back, unable to take it anymore. You don't tell me what to do! You don't have any power over me! Now just SHUT! UP! I'll flinch as much as I want. I'll pretend as much as I want. Because you don't have any power of me, you never will. So leave me alone. Lizzy did something that she hadn't done in years. She dug her hands deep inside the small magical pouch at her waist and searched for a small wooden branch, green leaves sticking out of it at ends. She felt what she was looking for and pulled it out and into the open, where the morning sunlight revealed what it was.

My old wand. She thought fondly, stroking the swirls in the branch. Maybe it's time I gave life magic another try. Be a theurgist for a little while. It'll definitely be of more use to Alex and Warwick than me being a swashbuckler has... Lizzy pulled her legs into a criss-cross positing and rested her hands in her lap, her fingers woven around the wand in such a way that it stuck straight up. She mentally blocked out all of the noises of Northguard and thought only to herself, ignoring the radiation from Alex, ignoring Warwick -- letting them and her reality go for a moment. She managed to calm herself down after a few minutes of deep breathing, then opened her eyes with a faint smile. "What's for breakfast?" She asked, inwardly shielding herself for what ever harsh words would come to her from Alex or Warwick.

OOC:....and cue in Warwick angry and confused at everything, take one! --Warwick felt the effects going to his stomach immediately. It gurgled in spite and repulsion at the silvergrass, pestering him enough to develop sweat on his brow.

What are you trying to do, poison me? Warwick tried to shake the thought off just as fast as it had come to surface in his mind. Would Alex have been so frustrated with him as to add her temper into her finest art? Was his rescue coming back with a caveat?

Shut up, Alex saved you. You know how potions and things work, with their side effects.

Yuck, you sound like your general. Warwick folded his arms on the table, chin resting in his elbows. The noise from the (Is it a Tavern?) tavern was deafening, only sounding a little diminished with the help of Warwick's stomach. He learned that the voices of bears would bounce off of nearly everything and echo until the words were so jumbled to comprehend. And yet, there were humans, too. They reeked of something unfamiliar, Warwick noticed, something...magical.

Wizards! Warwick realized, shifting a little in his seat. He, per usual, was uncomfortable around magic and its qualities. He had no resistance towards them; thus, magic was a severe threat. Something yet still tugged at Warwick's mind, though. It was the wolf, alright. Had the potion left a mark; a scar? Don't worry, Warwick reassured himself, It will leave in time, perhaps with your lunch.

"So, what's for breakfast?" Warwick looked up. The room radiated with the smells of all sorts of foods - meats, vegetables, steaming broths and teas - and didn't provide for any common trend for breakfast. The smells sickened him, though, leaving him to fake interest in the food. His stomach groaned.

"I don't know," Warwick said, looking about the room. Every creature seemed to be armed and ready for combat as need be - was this custom, or was there a reason? Nonetheless, Warwick felt more and more vulnerable as time passed. "What goes into a breakfast here?" As he said that, a group of humans walking together rushed into the room, each walking with an unearthly grace and balance.

Wizards, Warwick realized, leaning back in his chair. Magic still terrified him, as he had no resistance to it. He turned back to Lizzy, awaiting a response. He looked closer, though, and found that there was a layer of doubt and worry in her eyes, paying no attention to the wand between her fingertips.

"Is everything alright, Liz?" Warwick asked, his voice somehow going under and around the gentle roar of outside conversation.

OOC:....and cue in Warwick angry and confused at everything, take one! --Warwick felt the effects going to his stomach immediately. It gurgled in spite and repulsion at the silvergrass, pestering him enough to develop sweat on his brow.

What are you trying to do, poison me? Warwick tried to shake the thought off just as fast as it had come to surface in his mind. Would Alex have been so frustrated with him as to add her temper into her finest art? Was his rescue coming back with a caveat?

Shut up, Alex saved you. You know how potions and things work, with their side effects.

Yuck, you sound like your general. Warwick folded his arms on the table, chin resting in his elbows. The noise from the (Is it a Tavern?) tavern was deafening, only sounding a little diminished with the help of Warwick's stomach. He learned that the voices of bears would bounce off of nearly everything and echo until the words were so jumbled to comprehend. And yet, there were humans, too. They reeked of something unfamiliar, Warwick noticed, something...magical.

Wizards! Warwick realized, shifting a little in his seat. He, per usual, was uncomfortable around magic and its qualities. He had no resistance towards them; thus, magic was a severe threat. Something yet still tugged at Warwick's mind, though. It was the wolf, alright. Had the potion left a mark; a scar? Don't worry, Warwick reassured himself, It will leave in time, perhaps with your lunch.

"So, what's for breakfast?" Warwick looked up. The room radiated with the smells of all sorts of foods - meats, vegetables, steaming broths and teas - and didn't provide for any common trend for breakfast. The smells sickened him, though, leaving him to fake interest in the food. His stomach groaned.

"I don't know," Warwick said, looking about the room. Every creature seemed to be armed and ready for combat as need be - was this custom, or was there a reason? Nonetheless, Warwick felt more and more vulnerable as time passed. "What goes into a breakfast here?" As he said that, a group of humans walking together rushed into the room, each walking with an unearthly grace and balance.

Wizards, Warwick realized, leaning back in his chair. Magic still terrified him, as he had no resistance to it. He turned back to Lizzy, awaiting a response. He looked closer, though, and found that there was a layer of doubt and worry in her eyes, paying no attention to the wand between her fingertips.

"Is everything alright, Liz?" Warwick asked, his voice somehow going under and around the gentle roar of outside conversation.

Of all the things. Warwick could have said anything in The Spiral, and of all of the things, he said this. She had shielded herself against any oncoming insults to her, for this is what she had expected -- but Lizzy found herself thrown completely off guard. She savored the moment. "Is everything alright, Liz?" He had asked. Liz. She repeated in her mind. Only her family called her that. No one before that was outside the family had called her Liz. And yet, here Warwick said it. It was quite simple and Warwick probable didn't have any deeper thoughts by calling her Liz, just asking a question. But he had called her Liz. This absolutely made her day, and when she realized this, she couldn't prevent herself from smiling. Celebrate the little things in life. A calm voice said in her mind, in an approving response to her reaction.

"Everything is fine, Warwick." She replied smoothly, almost singing the simple sentence. "Thank you for asking." This had confused her, though. Was she ready to sing again? Was it possible? She hadn't sang since her parents died, as if her voice had been torn from her. Yet here she was, nearly singing on her own. Lizzy closed her eyes, fondly bringing up a memory of she and her father singing while her mom played the piano, Andrew smiling and clapping nearby. They were playing a Christmas song if she remembered correctly, even though none of her family belonged to any particular religion. It was the best kind of magical there is. Lizzy put away her wand.

"Hey, Alex," She began, "I know of a special place right here in Northguard. It's safe, and it's so wonderful, sunlight filters in through snow and... and... it's magical." Lizzy twiddled her thumbs in her lap. "I think we would all gain from a visit. We'll eat, first, if you want. Are you hungry, Alex?"

Liz. She repeated in her mind. It was here that she decided. She was ready to sing again.

OOC:....and cue in Warwick angry and confused at everything, take one! --Warwick felt the effects going to his stomach immediately. It gurgled in spite and repulsion at the silvergrass, pestering him enough to develop sweat on his brow.

What are you trying to do, poison me? Warwick tried to shake the thought off just as fast as it had come to surface in his mind. Would Alex have been so frustrated with him as to add her temper into her finest art? Was his rescue coming back with a caveat?

Shut up, Alex saved you. You know how potions and things work, with their side effects.

Yuck, you sound like your general. Warwick folded his arms on the table, chin resting in his elbows. The noise from the (Is it a Tavern?) tavern was deafening, only sounding a little diminished with the help of Warwick's stomach. He learned that the voices of bears would bounce off of nearly everything and echo until the words were so jumbled to comprehend. And yet, there were humans, too. They reeked of something unfamiliar, Warwick noticed, something...magical.

Wizards! Warwick realized, shifting a little in his seat. He, per usual, was uncomfortable around magic and its qualities. He had no resistance towards them; thus, magic was a severe threat. Something yet still tugged at Warwick's mind, though. It was the wolf, alright. Had the potion left a mark; a scar? Don't worry, Warwick reassured himself, It will leave in time, perhaps with your lunch.

"So, what's for breakfast?" Warwick looked up. The room radiated with the smells of all sorts of foods - meats, vegetables, steaming broths and teas - and didn't provide for any common trend for breakfast. The smells sickened him, though, leaving him to fake interest in the food. His stomach groaned.

"I don't know," Warwick said, looking about the room. Every creature seemed to be armed and ready for combat as need be - was this custom, or was there a reason? Nonetheless, Warwick felt more and more vulnerable as time passed. "What goes into a breakfast here?" As he said that, a group of humans walking together rushed into the room, each walking with an unearthly grace and balance.

Wizards, Warwick realized, leaning back in his chair. Magic still terrified him, as he had no resistance to it. He turned back to Lizzy, awaiting a response. He looked closer, though, and found that there was a layer of doubt and worry in her eyes, paying no attention to the wand between her fingertips.

"Is everything alright, Liz?" Warwick asked, his voice somehow going under and around the gentle roar of outside conversation.

Lizzy had followed Alex and Warwick inside, and obviously Lizzy seemed a little stressed about the previous predicament in their path. But Alex could also practically feel Warwick's doubt toward her and her best work, and Lizzy's own possible envy. It was too much for the alchemist. The brunette inhaled, exhaled, and inhaled again as if to pacify herself, but her endeavors at tranquility ultimately despaired, and despite Alex snapping her eyes shut to close the tears out from escaping, another bead of crystal clear, glassy water formed at the corner of her eye. Alexandra Fairlead started to cry.

Now imagine what they think of you, you pathetic little whiner!! The devilish voice returned, dripping with venom and anger toward her. They probably hate you even more. Warwick thinks you're trying to kill him, and Lizzy hates you! And guess what- they both have a right to hate you! You're nothing but an uncompassionate, cold-blooded idiot!

Her tears did not take a hiatus. The alchemist leaped up and sprinted out the door, not thinking to counter the negativity of her own dark side's words with her own. Alex darted through the trees once more, concealing herself from all, wishing she could become invisible. She could not stop crying. The grass she rested on was beginning to dampen slightly, and not from the dew usually glistening on the tips. She finally paused, inhaling and exhaling heavily yet full of the uncontrollable negativity. Yea, Warwick and Lizzy probably hated her now. They probably thought she was just purely evil, selfish, without a heart....

OOC:....and cue in Warwick angry and confused at everything, take one! --Warwick felt the effects going to his stomach immediately. It gurgled in spite and repulsion at the silvergrass, pestering him enough to develop sweat on his brow.

What are you trying to do, poison me? Warwick tried to shake the thought off just as fast as it had come to surface in his mind. Would Alex have been so frustrated with him as to add her temper into her finest art? Was his rescue coming back with a caveat?

Shut up, Alex saved you. You know how potions and things work, with their side effects.

Yuck, you sound like your general. Warwick folded his arms on the table, chin resting in his elbows. The noise from the (Is it a Tavern?) tavern was deafening, only sounding a little diminished with the help of Warwick's stomach. He learned that the voices of bears would bounce off of nearly everything and echo until the words were so jumbled to comprehend. And yet, there were humans, too. They reeked of something unfamiliar, Warwick noticed, something...magical.

Wizards! Warwick realized, shifting a little in his seat. He, per usual, was uncomfortable around magic and its qualities. He had no resistance towards them; thus, magic was a severe threat. Something yet still tugged at Warwick's mind, though. It was the wolf, alright. Had the potion left a mark; a scar? Don't worry, Warwick reassured himself, It will leave in time, perhaps with your lunch.

"So, what's for breakfast?" Warwick looked up. The room radiated with the smells of all sorts of foods - meats, vegetables, steaming broths and teas - and didn't provide for any common trend for breakfast. The smells sickened him, though, leaving him to fake interest in the food. His stomach groaned.

"I don't know," Warwick said, looking about the room. Every creature seemed to be armed and ready for combat as need be - was this custom, or was there a reason? Nonetheless, Warwick felt more and more vulnerable as time passed. "What goes into a breakfast here?" As he said that, a group of humans walking together rushed into the room, each walking with an unearthly grace and balance.

Wizards, Warwick realized, leaning back in his chair. Magic still terrified him, as he had no resistance to it. He turned back to Lizzy, awaiting a response. He looked closer, though, and found that there was a layer of doubt and worry in her eyes, paying no attention to the wand between her fingertips.

"Is everything alright, Liz?" Warwick asked, his voice somehow going under and around the gentle roar of outside conversation.

OOC: I forgot to finish my previous post, sorry!

Alex seemed to barely even hear the rustle of the leaves nearby as she cried without end. The brunette was full of sorrow, and nothing could drain her somberness which she believed was eternal. Perpetual solitude was something she faced already, and now another haunting emotion? All of these fragments of destruction were tearing at her... Anger, regret, hatred, sorrow. Envy lingered there, striking only when it felt it could torment the alchemist further. Soon enough Alexandra had run out of tears, and she reclined against a frigid and hard rock which hurt to endeavor resting upon, but to no matter.

The rustle of the malachite clusters of leaves transcended in noise- until a human young woman, aged twenty-one approximately, stepped from the leaves and into the shadowed clearing Alex had sprinted to hide in. The strange girl had waves of light blonde, yet not white blonde, hair that cascaded barely past her shoulders. A silver headband rested in between strands of hair, and she wore a white long sleeved top, adorned with pearls, that merged seamlessly into white pants, also with strings of pearls ornamenting them. Her white boots had clear cream colored heels, and the only color on her was the argent belt around her waist, which was barely a color at all. She held a staff, with white bursts of light containing moving images- memories- encircling it.

"May I ask what plagues you, Alexandra Fairlead?" She inquired. Her voice was definitely authoritative and knowledgeable, and perfectly resonant- the voice you'd partially expect from a queen, yet less hollow. "I don't want to hear the answer of 'nothing'- I already foresee that is a frivolous lie to conceal your sorrows."

Alex turned, shocked at her sudden company. "H-How do you kn-know my name?" She countered, still fearful in the presence of the queenly figure. "A-And who are you?"

The woman smiled. "I am Oblivion, Ultimate Queen of Veneera and the Manipulator of Memories. I know the darkest of secrets, the most clever of lies, and the bitterest of truths." Oblivion, huh....

"Oblivion? Veneera...?" Alex's stuttering had taken a hiatus. She had heard those named before. Two girls she knew had ranted about the former with harsh words and unforgiveness, yet admitted they had been to the latter. Wasn't Veneera a world.... And then again, a world where memories were forgotten and coveted from the great queen herself, Oblivion?

Oblivion smiled. "Now, Alexandra Fairlead.... I can help you with your situation." The tone to her voice was almost sadistic and scary... Sarcastic. But yet it was so... Luring.

OOC: Veneera is a world concept I created for a Central Roleplay by the name of Amnesiac Aberrations. Go check it out if you want to know more. XD

Alex seemed to barely even hear the rustle of the leaves nearby as she cried without end. The brunette was full of sorrow, and nothing could drain her somberness which she believed was eternal. Perpetual solitude was something she faced already, and now another haunting emotion? All of these fragments of destruction were tearing at her... Anger, regret, hatred, sorrow. Envy lingered there, striking only when it felt it could torment the alchemist further. Soon enough Alexandra had run out of tears, and she reclined against a frigid and hard rock which hurt to endeavor resting upon, but to no matter.

The rustle of the malachite clusters of leaves transcended in noise- until a human young woman, aged twenty-one approximately, stepped from the leaves and into the shadowed clearing Alex had sprinted to hide in. The strange girl had waves of light blonde, yet not white blonde, hair that cascaded barely past her shoulders. A silver headband rested in between strands of hair, and she wore a white long sleeved top, adorned with pearls, that merged seamlessly into white pants, also with strings of pearls ornamenting them. Her white boots had clear cream colored heels, and the only color on her was the argent belt around her waist, which was barely a color at all. She held a staff, with white bursts of light containing moving images- memories- encircling it.

"May I ask what plagues you, Alexandra Fairlead?" She inquired. Her voice was definitely authoritative and knowledgeable, and perfectly resonant- the voice you'd partially expect from a queen, yet less hollow. "I don't want to hear the answer of 'nothing'- I already foresee that is a frivolous lie to conceal your sorrows."

Alex turned, shocked at her sudden company. "H-How do you kn-know my name?" She countered, still fearful in the presence of the queenly figure. "A-And who are you?"

The woman smiled. "I am Oblivion, Ultimate Queen of Veneera and the Manipulator of Memories. I know the darkest of secrets, the most clever of lies, and the bitterest of truths." Oblivion, huh....

"Oblivion? Veneera...?" Alex's stuttering had taken a hiatus. She had heard those named before. Two girls she knew had ranted about the former with harsh words and unforgiveness, yet admitted they had been to the latter. Wasn't Veneera a world.... And then again, a world where memories were forgotten and coveted from the great queen herself, Oblivion?

Oblivion smiled. "Now, Alexandra Fairlead.... I can help you with your situation." The tone to her voice was almost sadistic and scary... Sarcastic. But yet it was so... Luring.

OOC: Veneera is a world concept I created for a Central Roleplay by the name of Amnesiac Aberrations. Go check it out if you want to know more. XD

I hope your Thanksgivings were happy and food-filled! Emma, if you don't mind, I'm going to play with Oblivion and her power just a tad to show why a regretful Warwick is better than the old Warwick. -"Yes, food does sound like -" Warwick started, only to see Alex flee the room. His fingers reached out towards her, but he retracted his hand and sighed.

"I sometimes feel like she's in pain," Warwick said gravely, "I can see it from how she looks towards the corners of the room." Plates of food were then placed on the table, neither command nor favor causing the gift. Warwick found himself audience to an array of native foods, few he knew of. Deciding which ones looked more edible than the others in his Marleybonian fashion, Warwick popped what seemed like a small fruit in his mouth, smiling at the sweet-sour quality.

As if in response to Warwick's moment of comfort, something changed in the air. His head felt congested, but it was in a way soothing, almost as if his regret and sorrow was put off to the side for a moment. However, he knew of a presence of something tucked away. It tore at his mind as he tried to uncover it, and he closed his eyes, mumbling words and phrases littered through his past in the Navy.

"Sarah, Armada....Who are you?...admiral, admiral, galleon, engineer...Grace Conrad, I am! I think I can fix that for you...Albion, Albion, orphans...I've been cursed to walk on ten toes by night!" Warwick's arms were tensed, and he stayed absolutely still, running through his entire past.

"McLoughlin, crates, Kearns, Doggest, Smeagle, Lieutenant...Your sister..." It soon became obvious that, by the words spoken, Warwick wasn't going from the beginning, but was back-tracking, moreof. He became louder.

"Ad'mral, I don't like it here, very much...Glass House, Meowiarty, swordplay, galleon...But, she's a beaut, I'll give you that. What's her name?" Warwick's eyes opened. They were slightly dilated as he whispered the last phrase. "Orleans, eh? How have you stepped up here if you're nothing but a ship-pirating, coin-slipping murderer?"

I hope your Thanksgivings were happy and food-filled! Emma, if you don't mind, I'm going to play with Oblivion and her power just a tad to show why a regretful Warwick is better than the old Warwick. -"Yes, food does sound like -" Warwick started, only to see Alex flee the room. His fingers reached out towards her, but he retracted his hand and sighed.

"I sometimes feel like she's in pain," Warwick said gravely, "I can see it from how she looks towards the corners of the room." Plates of food were then placed on the table, neither command nor favor causing the gift. Warwick found himself audience to an array of native foods, few he knew of. Deciding which ones looked more edible than the others in his Marleybonian fashion, Warwick popped what seemed like a small fruit in his mouth, smiling at the sweet-sour quality.

As if in response to Warwick's moment of comfort, something changed in the air. His head felt congested, but it was in a way soothing, almost as if his regret and sorrow was put off to the side for a moment. However, he knew of a presence of something tucked away. It tore at his mind as he tried to uncover it, and he closed his eyes, mumbling words and phrases littered through his past in the Navy.

"Sarah, Armada....Who are you?...admiral, admiral, galleon, engineer...Grace Conrad, I am! I think I can fix that for you...Albion, Albion, orphans...I've been cursed to walk on ten toes by night!" Warwick's arms were tensed, and he stayed absolutely still, running through his entire past.

"McLoughlin, crates, Kearns, Doggest, Smeagle, Lieutenant...Your sister..." It soon became obvious that, by the words spoken, Warwick wasn't going from the beginning, but was back-tracking, moreof. He became louder.

"Ad'mral, I don't like it here, very much...Glass House, Meowiarty, swordplay, galleon...But, she's a beaut, I'll give you that. What's her name?" Warwick's eyes opened. They were slightly dilated as he whispered the last phrase. "Orleans, eh? How have you stepped up here if you're nothing but a ship-pirating, coin-slipping murderer?"

My thanksgiving was great, despite my sis got the stomach flu before she got to eat anything and then my parents caught it, then my other sister, and now I am catching it.... But it was good food. For the record, you pretty much perfected one of the ways Oblivion works her powers- but the RP she first appeared in was called 'Amnesiac Aberrations' for a reason...

~

Oblivion seemed to smile, just a little, sadistically. A sense of torment from some kid by the name of Warwick's memories resonated, and she had managed to catch on to the aura, as if she had a remote to the tv and was hitting replay over and over and over. The white-clad queen then turned back to Alex, who still seemed a bit frantic. Maybe even a little bit scared or surprised. Oh well, she'll be fine soon...

"As I said, I can help you with your situation..." She nearly whispered, but still audible enough for the alchemist to hear her words. "But it comes with a cost- actually, it sort of builds up that. You say your past has made you weak, correct? You think you feel so many sad emotions like envy, fear, and sadness due to torments of your past as well?" Alex bitterly nodded, dabbing away the crystal-like tears that remained lingering at the corners of her eyelids. "And now you have those two, Elizabeth and Warwick, contributing to these. All of these torments are fragments of your memory, and they will only hurt you more with every step of the way." Alex was starting to think she realized where Oblivion was going.

"Y-You mean...?" She drawled, stuttering again. She remained silent afterwards to hear what Oblivion would say next to her.

Oblivion nodded gravely- an indication of how serious this was. "Now, you have a choice.... Amnesia could help to repair these injuries to your soul and emotions, but also damage you a little bit. It is a grim choice, as I mentioned. You do not have to accept this, but it is your choice."

"Confiscating my memories... How much of them?" Alex asked, her interest increasing.

I hope your Thanksgivings were happy and food-filled! Emma, if you don't mind, I'm going to play with Oblivion and her power just a tad to show why a regretful Warwick is better than the old Warwick. -"Yes, food does sound like -" Warwick started, only to see Alex flee the room. His fingers reached out towards her, but he retracted his hand and sighed.

"I sometimes feel like she's in pain," Warwick said gravely, "I can see it from how she looks towards the corners of the room." Plates of food were then placed on the table, neither command nor favor causing the gift. Warwick found himself audience to an array of native foods, few he knew of. Deciding which ones looked more edible than the others in his Marleybonian fashion, Warwick popped what seemed like a small fruit in his mouth, smiling at the sweet-sour quality.

As if in response to Warwick's moment of comfort, something changed in the air. His head felt congested, but it was in a way soothing, almost as if his regret and sorrow was put off to the side for a moment. However, he knew of a presence of something tucked away. It tore at his mind as he tried to uncover it, and he closed his eyes, mumbling words and phrases littered through his past in the Navy.

"Sarah, Armada....Who are you?...admiral, admiral, galleon, engineer...Grace Conrad, I am! I think I can fix that for you...Albion, Albion, orphans...I've been cursed to walk on ten toes by night!" Warwick's arms were tensed, and he stayed absolutely still, running through his entire past.

"McLoughlin, crates, Kearns, Doggest, Smeagle, Lieutenant...Your sister..." It soon became obvious that, by the words spoken, Warwick wasn't going from the beginning, but was back-tracking, moreof. He became louder.

"Ad'mral, I don't like it here, very much...Glass House, Meowiarty, swordplay, galleon...But, she's a beaut, I'll give you that. What's her name?" Warwick's eyes opened. They were slightly dilated as he whispered the last phrase. "Orleans, eh? How have you stepped up here if you're nothing but a ship-pirating, coin-slipping murderer?"

Lizzy sat, paralyzed with fear as she watched Warwick recall all of these memories. There was nothing she could do but watch, and no matter how hard she tried to move herself, turn off her ears, or shut out Warwick's voice, she couldn't prevent herself from drinking in all of these words. She was absolutely helpless, and suddenly alone in this cold world. Alex was gone, and Warwick was in a world that no one else knew.

"Orleans, eh? How have you stepped up here if you're nothing but a ship-pirating, coin-slipping murderer?" Tears sprang into Lizzy's eyes, but no sooner had Warwick finished and collapsed onto the table that whatever had forced him to say what he did invaded Lizzy's body and mind, though forcing a different kind of memory to emerge. Her painful and confusing memories.

It was here that Lizzy started recalling painful memories that none of her friends had ever been apart of. She winced at each one, tears streaming down her cheeks. There were too many painful memories, both emotional and physical, that Lizzy had experienced. She had been forced to grow up far too quickly, each painful memory leaving her scarred, but shaping her into who she is today. Several minutes later she finished at her first truly painful experience, crying about 'Andrew, Mommy and Daddy.' Then she fell silent, quivering and sobbing as she slumped over the table.

That was it. Lizzy was broken.

The small, fourteen year old girl breathed very shallowly, almost none at all. She was biting her lip and staring straight ahead blankly, her hands seeming to be knotted together in her lap. She took in a deep breath and blinked, returning back to Lizzy, back from a terrifying world of negative thoughts, powerful emotions, and the deepest, most riddling memories of her existence. Lizzy slowly began to mentally rebuild herself, focusing solely on the things that were in her few gathered thoughts, like a light at the end of the tunnel. Slowly the real world came back to view, but she still had an odd expression, like she didn't believe that this was quite real.

"Are you okay?" She asked Warwick, her eyes riddled with worry as she tried to focus on him. Lizzy wanted so badly to go after Alex and speak with her, but she couldn't help but think that she would be getting in the way. No, best to leave her alone, for now. Besides, she still couldn't have collected thoughts for long enough to hold a proper conversation.

I hope your Thanksgivings were happy and food-filled! Emma, if you don't mind, I'm going to play with Oblivion and her power just a tad to show why a regretful Warwick is better than the old Warwick. -"Yes, food does sound like -" Warwick started, only to see Alex flee the room. His fingers reached out towards her, but he retracted his hand and sighed.

"I sometimes feel like she's in pain," Warwick said gravely, "I can see it from how she looks towards the corners of the room." Plates of food were then placed on the table, neither command nor favor causing the gift. Warwick found himself audience to an array of native foods, few he knew of. Deciding which ones looked more edible than the others in his Marleybonian fashion, Warwick popped what seemed like a small fruit in his mouth, smiling at the sweet-sour quality.

As if in response to Warwick's moment of comfort, something changed in the air. His head felt congested, but it was in a way soothing, almost as if his regret and sorrow was put off to the side for a moment. However, he knew of a presence of something tucked away. It tore at his mind as he tried to uncover it, and he closed his eyes, mumbling words and phrases littered through his past in the Navy.

"Sarah, Armada....Who are you?...admiral, admiral, galleon, engineer...Grace Conrad, I am! I think I can fix that for you...Albion, Albion, orphans...I've been cursed to walk on ten toes by night!" Warwick's arms were tensed, and he stayed absolutely still, running through his entire past.

"McLoughlin, crates, Kearns, Doggest, Smeagle, Lieutenant...Your sister..." It soon became obvious that, by the words spoken, Warwick wasn't going from the beginning, but was back-tracking, moreof. He became louder.

"Ad'mral, I don't like it here, very much...Glass House, Meowiarty, swordplay, galleon...But, she's a beaut, I'll give you that. What's her name?" Warwick's eyes opened. They were slightly dilated as he whispered the last phrase. "Orleans, eh? How have you stepped up here if you're nothing but a ship-pirating, coin-slipping murderer?"

Lizzy sat, paralyzed with fear as she watched Warwick recall all of these memories. There was nothing she could do but watch, and no matter how hard she tried to move herself, turn off her ears, or shut out Warwick's voice, she couldn't prevent herself from drinking in all of these words. She was absolutely helpless, and suddenly alone in this cold world. Alex was gone, and Warwick was in a world that no one else knew.

"Orleans, eh? How have you stepped up here if you're nothing but a ship-pirating, coin-slipping murderer?" Tears sprang into Lizzy's eyes, but no sooner had Warwick finished and collapsed onto the table that whatever had forced him to say what he did invaded Lizzy's body and mind, though forcing a different kind of memory to emerge. Her painful and confusing memories.

It was here that Lizzy started recalling painful memories that none of her friends had ever been apart of. She winced at each one, tears streaming down her cheeks. There were too many painful memories, both emotional and physical, that Lizzy had experienced. She had been forced to grow up far too quickly, each painful memory leaving her scarred, but shaping her into who she is today. Several minutes later she finished at her first truly painful experience, crying about 'Andrew, Mommy and Daddy.' Then she fell silent, quivering and sobbing as she slumped over the table.

That was it. Lizzy was broken.

The small, fourteen year old girl breathed very shallowly, almost none at all. She was biting her lip and staring straight ahead blankly, her hands seeming to be knotted together in her lap. She took in a deep breath and blinked, returning back to Lizzy, back from a terrifying world of negative thoughts, powerful emotions, and the deepest, most riddling memories of her existence. Lizzy slowly began to mentally rebuild herself, focusing solely on the things that were in her few gathered thoughts, like a light at the end of the tunnel. Slowly the real world came back to view, but she still had an odd expression, like she didn't believe that this was quite real.

"Are you okay?" She asked Warwick, her eyes riddled with worry as she tried to focus on him. Lizzy wanted so badly to go after Alex and speak with her, but she couldn't help but think that she would be getting in the way. No, best to leave her alone, for now. Besides, she still couldn't have collected thoughts for long enough to hold a proper conversation.

Lizzy sat, paralyzed with fear as she watched Warwick recall all of these memories. There was nothing she could do but watch, and no matter how hard she tried to move herself, turn off her ears, or shut out Warwick's voice, she couldn't prevent herself from drinking in all of these words. She was absolutely helpless, and suddenly alone in this cold world. Alex was gone, and Warwick was in a world that no one else knew.

"Orleans, eh? How have you stepped up here if you're nothing but a ship-pirating, coin-slipping murderer?" Tears sprang into Lizzy's eyes, but no sooner had Warwick finished and collapsed onto the table that whatever had forced him to say what he did invaded Lizzy's body and mind, though forcing a different kind of memory to emerge. Her painful and confusing memories.

It was here that Lizzy started recalling painful memories that none of her friends had ever been apart of. She winced at each one, tears streaming down her cheeks. There were too many painful memories, both emotional and physical, that Lizzy had experienced. She had been forced to grow up far too quickly, each painful memory leaving her scarred, but shaping her into who she is today. Several minutes later she finished at her first truly painful experience, crying about 'Andrew, Mommy and Daddy.' Then she fell silent, quivering and sobbing as she slumped over the table.

That was it. Lizzy was broken.

The small, fourteen year old girl breathed very shallowly, almost none at all. She was biting her lip and staring straight ahead blankly, her hands seeming to be knotted together in her lap. She took in a deep breath and blinked, returning back to Lizzy, back from a terrifying world of negative thoughts, powerful emotions, and the deepest, most riddling memories of her existence. Lizzy slowly began to mentally rebuild herself, focusing solely on the things that were in her few gathered thoughts, like a light at the end of the tunnel. Slowly the real world came back to view, but she still had an odd expression, like she didn't believe that this was quite real.

"Are you okay?" She asked Warwick, her eyes riddled with worry as she tried to focus on him. Lizzy wanted so badly to go after Alex and speak with her, but she couldn't help but think that she would be getting in the way. No, best to leave her alone, for now. Besides, she still couldn't have collected thoughts for long enough to hold a proper conversation.

OOC: I should probably post, Sean and Connor have been left unattended. ~Oblivion said her name at the exact moment Connor fell unconscious from his injuries and fatigue. Memories flooded back to him. Memories of Sean's insane and desperate struggles to make a living and bring his parents back. Of all the times Sean had beat Connor for failing to retrieve the Wintertusk windstone, for Sean believed in Wintertusk he could bring his parents back. Connor remembered the last time he had tried to get the windstone for Sean, the time Luke had attacked him back in Granchia. Connor escaped the Armada by the skin of his neck, and Sean was locked up. Connor's living utterly destroyed, he went under the teachings of Mordekai. Prepared to face his past, Connor delved even further into his memories. The first meeting Connor attended as a new member of the Resistance, the first time Connor had associated with the clockwork battling group under the leadership of Hank Ironside. Connor had learned the code, which went something like this.

Never surrender in the face of death.Never hide in the face of destruction.Enjoy every moment you tear these clockworks apart.For they are our enemies, and they show no mercy. To them, neither should you.

Of course, this was only the first part of the code, but Connor thought this portion the most important. He remembered his first vision sleep. Connor's vision was nothing that he was interested in, but looking back on it, he thought it now concealed a secret. The vision was like this:

Two people, a man and a woman, trudged through a snowy and barren land. It was night time, still snowing, in the gloomy land. Connor only had seen their faces for a few seconds, but saw that the man resembled Warwick greatly.~At this, Connor woke up. He took out that last amount of food he had, and ate all of it. As he walked across the Vigrid Roughlands, with a 100 pound dragoon greatsword and a stiff leg, Connor began to think about the vision he had all those years before. That man, in the dream, could he be related to Warwick? If so, why am I dreaming about Warwick's father? And that woman......Could she be Warwick's mother? I wonder if Warwick would be intrigued by this.~Several minutes later, Connor located Warwick and Lizzy. They did not seem to notice Connor approaching, as he came over and set down a "stolen" potion, and a note that read: I'd like to talk to you. Meet me in Nidavellir.And with that, Connor took his leave.

Lizzy sat, paralyzed with fear as she watched Warwick recall all of these memories. There was nothing she could do but watch, and no matter how hard she tried to move herself, turn off her ears, or shut out Warwick's voice, she couldn't prevent herself from drinking in all of these words. She was absolutely helpless, and suddenly alone in this cold world. Alex was gone, and Warwick was in a world that no one else knew.

"Orleans, eh? How have you stepped up here if you're nothing but a ship-pirating, coin-slipping murderer?" Tears sprang into Lizzy's eyes, but no sooner had Warwick finished and collapsed onto the table that whatever had forced him to say what he did invaded Lizzy's body and mind, though forcing a different kind of memory to emerge. Her painful and confusing memories.

It was here that Lizzy started recalling painful memories that none of her friends had ever been apart of. She winced at each one, tears streaming down her cheeks. There were too many painful memories, both emotional and physical, that Lizzy had experienced. She had been forced to grow up far too quickly, each painful memory leaving her scarred, but shaping her into who she is today. Several minutes later she finished at her first truly painful experience, crying about 'Andrew, Mommy and Daddy.' Then she fell silent, quivering and sobbing as she slumped over the table.

That was it. Lizzy was broken.

The small, fourteen year old girl breathed very shallowly, almost none at all. She was biting her lip and staring straight ahead blankly, her hands seeming to be knotted together in her lap. She took in a deep breath and blinked, returning back to Lizzy, back from a terrifying world of negative thoughts, powerful emotions, and the deepest, most riddling memories of her existence. Lizzy slowly began to mentally rebuild herself, focusing solely on the things that were in her few gathered thoughts, like a light at the end of the tunnel. Slowly the real world came back to view, but she still had an odd expression, like she didn't believe that this was quite real.

"Are you okay?" She asked Warwick, her eyes riddled with worry as she tried to focus on him. Lizzy wanted so badly to go after Alex and speak with her, but she couldn't help but think that she would be getting in the way. No, best to leave her alone, for now. Besides, she still couldn't have collected thoughts for long enough to hold a proper conversation.

(Spider!!!) (By the way, this roleplay holds a special place in my heart. I just want to take all of the characters and give them warm blankets, hot chocolate, and a nice vacation...)

Warwick panted, the table making an indentation in his forehead. He pushed himself up, squeezing his eyes shut in repulsion to the bright firelight. His world had recently come back into view, as well, and things seemed more whole. Unreal.

"Yeah," he lied, folding his arms on the table and looking back forward, "Yeah." Warwick thought over his recollection of memories. He hadn't ever dabbled in his earlier life, perhaps because little went wrong? Why did his memories span to his Navy days and Lizzy's go even further back? Nevermind that, Warwick thought to himself, It's none of your business, to begin with.

"Whatever it is..." he whispered, "It's still there. My General taught me to feel magical auras, should the need come about." There was something in Warwick, indeed - he felt it sift through his thoughts. He took Lizzy's hand, helping her up and out of the tavern, letting go when they were in the comfort of the outdoors. Warwick felt something push him back from talking with Alex. It screamed at him not to, that she would be fine. It was then that one of his more stubborn urges kicked in, pushing him forward through an invisible gale of sorts. He approached the forests, wandering forth towards where the aura grew stronger.

(Spider!!!) (By the way, this roleplay holds a special place in my heart. I just want to take all of the characters and give them warm blankets, hot chocolate, and a nice vacation...)

Warwick panted, the table making an indentation in his forehead. He pushed himself up, squeezing his eyes shut in repulsion to the bright firelight. His world had recently come back into view, as well, and things seemed more whole. Unreal.

"Yeah," he lied, folding his arms on the table and looking back forward, "Yeah." Warwick thought over his recollection of memories. He hadn't ever dabbled in his earlier life, perhaps because little went wrong? Why did his memories span to his Navy days and Lizzy's go even further back? Nevermind that, Warwick thought to himself, It's none of your business, to begin with.

"Whatever it is..." he whispered, "It's still there. My General taught me to feel magical auras, should the need come about." There was something in Warwick, indeed - he felt it sift through his thoughts. He took Lizzy's hand, helping her up and out of the tavern, letting go when they were in the comfort of the outdoors. Warwick felt something push him back from talking with Alex. It screamed at him not to, that she would be fine. It was then that one of his more stubborn urges kicked in, pushing him forward through an invisible gale of sorts. He approached the forests, wandering forth towards where the aura grew stronger.

"Alex?" he called out. "Alex, are you there?"

As Warwick led her out of the Tavern, Lizzy quickly plucked the potion with the note from the table and leaned into the privateer at her side as she walked, still trying to collect all of her thoughts together. She did her mental practice again, and turned her head to look at Warwick's expression, the way he held himself, his aura, his facial features, everything about him that she could see.

She paired what she was currently seeing with what she had seen of him in the past, and through this Warwick helped to rebuild Lizzy. She then tried to remember Connor, and although it was all very fuzzy at first, she was still capable of recalling him and what role he had played in her life. After she fully remembered the buccaneer, she switched over to Alex -- and was hit right in the gut with the alchemist's powerful emotions.

Lizzy stopped in her tracks, no longer following Warwick into the forest.

"No," she said simply, "not right." Lizzy raised her head, switching into aura vision, and was nearly knocked over from the power that radiated from an aura deeper in. "No." She said again. Lizzy searched her brain for the proper words to describe how she was feeling. There was the fact that Alex had chosen to leave Warwick and Lizzy alone in the first place -- it's true, Alex might want company, but Lizzy and Warwick were in no condition to accompany her.

But then again, that powerful aura could mean that Alex was in trouble and would require the assistance of the two of them. But, wouldn't Alex have called for them if she needed them? Lizzy wanted nothing to do with that powerful aura but would be willing to go in if it meant helping her friend... but did her friend want help?

As a tremor pulsed through the aura, Lizzy briefly forgot who she was. What was going on? Why was she here? Lizzy looked in front of her. Who in the world was that boy she was with? As the pulse faded away, these questions were answered, and she resumed her thought process.

Connor wanted to speak with Lizzy and Warwick in Wintertusk, though Lizzy had no idea why. For all she knew, it could be a trap. Or maybe Connor actually required their help. But could Lizzy trust him? For a moment she thought about splitting up with Warwick, asking him to go to Connor while she went to Alex, but she discarded the thought, still not completely trusting Warwick to not harm Connor or Sean, as much as she didn't trust the two of them.

The powerful aura pulsed again, thus Lizzy forgot things once more. She couldn't even find the way to summon pictures or words into her thought so she could form new ones. Lizzy shook her head.

"No." She said once more. "Warwick, we need to go. We shouldn't be here. And neither should..." Lizzy searched her memory. What was the name of that girl, again? And what was so important about her? She didn't know, and no matter how deep into her memory she went, she was only going into darkness and couldn't answer these questions. What was she saying again? Oh yeah! "Let's go."

(Spider!!!) (By the way, this roleplay holds a special place in my heart. I just want to take all of the characters and give them warm blankets, hot chocolate, and a nice vacation...)

Warwick panted, the table making an indentation in his forehead. He pushed himself up, squeezing his eyes shut in repulsion to the bright firelight. His world had recently come back into view, as well, and things seemed more whole. Unreal.

"Yeah," he lied, folding his arms on the table and looking back forward, "Yeah." Warwick thought over his recollection of memories. He hadn't ever dabbled in his earlier life, perhaps because little went wrong? Why did his memories span to his Navy days and Lizzy's go even further back? Nevermind that, Warwick thought to himself, It's none of your business, to begin with.

"Whatever it is..." he whispered, "It's still there. My General taught me to feel magical auras, should the need come about." There was something in Warwick, indeed - he felt it sift through his thoughts. He took Lizzy's hand, helping her up and out of the tavern, letting go when they were in the comfort of the outdoors. Warwick felt something push him back from talking with Alex. It screamed at him not to, that she would be fine. It was then that one of his more stubborn urges kicked in, pushing him forward through an invisible gale of sorts. He approached the forests, wandering forth towards where the aura grew stronger.

"Alex?" he called out. "Alex, are you there?"

Lizzy raised both her her hands to her head and pressed against her forehead. There was something important about what or who she was thinking and talking about, but the more Lizzy tried to remember, the more it faded away. Suddenly the girl found herself in a strange large forest, trees towering so far over her that if one were to fall it would kill her and bring other trees down with it. The birds cawing was absolutely deafening, and she pressed her hands to her ears to help block out the noise. Lizzy stumbled into Warwick and stayed there for a moment, taking in deep breaths and trying to regain her balance and thoughts. When she opened her eyes, she found her arms wrapped around the boy's midsection in a hug, her head resting on his chest.

Then out of nowhere a horrible sound came from the boy, so loud that the sound disoriented her, and she fell away from that strange boy in the armor. It was a heartbeat, yes, and her own was pounding her ears. She backpedaled away from whoever this person was and stared at him, her eyes wide. "Who are you?!" She demanded, only to find her back pressed against one of those terrifying and powerful un-moving trees. "Leave me alone!" Lizzy stood up and sprinted away as fast as she could, absolutely convinced that the boy was bad, the aura was bad, and whatever she was doing in that forest was bad. No, best to get away from that horrid place. Go, go, run! A voice shouted in Lizzy's mind. Hrm, it didn't sound like her own voice, but she didn't argue and raced over a bridge, shoved any bear that stood in her way, and sprinted onto some wooden boards, docks. She leaped onto a Grizzleheim traveler's boat and looked to the person who captained it.

"Take me to Wintertusk." She demanded, gazing at the potion in her hand. "I'm going to Nidavellir."

"Sorry," said the bear, "This vessel doesn't leave for Wintertusk for the next fifteen minutes. You're going to have to wait."

"Fine," snapped the girl, "I'll wait, then." As long as that privateer boy doesn't go trying to follow me. I don't like him, why was I hugging him? Lizzy got the chills. I can't believe I would hug a stranger like that.I must have been out of my mind.

Lizzy plopped herself down on one of the benches and crossed her legs, her hands resting in her lap, waiting.

OOC: I love this roleplay as well, and every time one of the characters are in distress, my eyes usually go wide and I wish there was some way I could help. I love this world and the spiral, and the way all of our characters have found each other and their connections to each other are powerful. Also, I thought Lizzy saying 'spider' louder than the other things would be a little funny, considering that of all the things she's known and gone through, spiders at the #1 thing on her list that she fears. XD I hope you guys all had a Happy Thanksgiving! Write ya later!

Lizzy raised both her her hands to her head and pressed against her forehead. There was something important about what or who she was thinking and talking about, but the more Lizzy tried to remember, the more it faded away. Suddenly the girl found herself in a strange large forest, trees towering so far over her that if one were to fall it would kill her and bring other trees down with it. The birds cawing was absolutely deafening, and she pressed her hands to her ears to help block out the noise. Lizzy stumbled into Warwick and stayed there for a moment, taking in deep breaths and trying to regain her balance and thoughts. When she opened her eyes, she found her arms wrapped around the boy's midsection in a hug, her head resting on his chest.

Then out of nowhere a horrible sound came from the boy, so loud that the sound disoriented her, and she fell away from that strange boy in the armor. It was a heartbeat, yes, and her own was pounding her ears. She backpedaled away from whoever this person was and stared at him, her eyes wide. "Who are you?!" She demanded, only to find her back pressed against one of those terrifying and powerful un-moving trees. "Leave me alone!" Lizzy stood up and sprinted away as fast as she could, absolutely convinced that the boy was bad, the aura was bad, and whatever she was doing in that forest was bad. No, best to get away from that horrid place. Go, go, run! A voice shouted in Lizzy's mind. Hrm, it didn't sound like her own voice, but she didn't argue and raced over a bridge, shoved any bear that stood in her way, and sprinted onto some wooden boards, docks. She leaped onto a Grizzleheim traveler's boat and looked to the person who captained it.

"Take me to Wintertusk." She demanded, gazing at the potion in her hand. "I'm going to Nidavellir."

"Sorry," said the bear, "This vessel doesn't leave for Wintertusk for the next fifteen minutes. You're going to have to wait."

"Fine," snapped the girl, "I'll wait, then." As long as that privateer boy doesn't go trying to follow me. I don't like him, why was I hugging him? Lizzy got the chills. I can't believe I would hug a stranger like that.I must have been out of my mind.

Lizzy plopped herself down on one of the benches and crossed her legs, her hands resting in her lap, waiting.

OOC: I love this roleplay as well, and every time one of the characters are in distress, my eyes usually go wide and I wish there was some way I could help. I love this world and the spiral, and the way all of our characters have found each other and their connections to each other are powerful. Also, I thought Lizzy saying 'spider' louder than the other things would be a little funny, considering that of all the things she's known and gone through, spiders at the #1 thing on her list that she fears. XD I hope you guys all had a Happy Thanksgiving! Write ya later!

OOC: Sorry for not being clearer, but Nidavellir isn't in Wintertusk, it's actually the abandoned ice fortress below Northguard.

Lizzy raised both her her hands to her head and pressed against her forehead. There was something important about what or who she was thinking and talking about, but the more Lizzy tried to remember, the more it faded away. Suddenly the girl found herself in a strange large forest, trees towering so far over her that if one were to fall it would kill her and bring other trees down with it. The birds cawing was absolutely deafening, and she pressed her hands to her ears to help block out the noise. Lizzy stumbled into Warwick and stayed there for a moment, taking in deep breaths and trying to regain her balance and thoughts. When she opened her eyes, she found her arms wrapped around the boy's midsection in a hug, her head resting on his chest.

Then out of nowhere a horrible sound came from the boy, so loud that the sound disoriented her, and she fell away from that strange boy in the armor. It was a heartbeat, yes, and her own was pounding her ears. She backpedaled away from whoever this person was and stared at him, her eyes wide. "Who are you?!" She demanded, only to find her back pressed against one of those terrifying and powerful un-moving trees. "Leave me alone!" Lizzy stood up and sprinted away as fast as she could, absolutely convinced that the boy was bad, the aura was bad, and whatever she was doing in that forest was bad. No, best to get away from that horrid place. Go, go, run! A voice shouted in Lizzy's mind. Hrm, it didn't sound like her own voice, but she didn't argue and raced over a bridge, shoved any bear that stood in her way, and sprinted onto some wooden boards, docks. She leaped onto a Grizzleheim traveler's boat and looked to the person who captained it.

"Take me to Wintertusk." She demanded, gazing at the potion in her hand. "I'm going to Nidavellir."

"Sorry," said the bear, "This vessel doesn't leave for Wintertusk for the next fifteen minutes. You're going to have to wait."

"Fine," snapped the girl, "I'll wait, then." As long as that privateer boy doesn't go trying to follow me. I don't like him, why was I hugging him? Lizzy got the chills. I can't believe I would hug a stranger like that.I must have been out of my mind.

Lizzy plopped herself down on one of the benches and crossed her legs, her hands resting in her lap, waiting.

OOC: I love this roleplay as well, and every time one of the characters are in distress, my eyes usually go wide and I wish there was some way I could help. I love this world and the spiral, and the way all of our characters have found each other and their connections to each other are powerful. Also, I thought Lizzy saying 'spider' louder than the other things would be a little funny, considering that of all the things she's known and gone through, spiders at the #1 thing on her list that she fears. XD I hope you guys all had a Happy Thanksgiving! Write ya later!

(Making Warwick completely conscious and in his right mind brings on just the same amount of fear and confusion. Thunderchu, by the way, I'd like Warwick not to meet his parents - at least in person - for a very, very long time, if you could make that accommodate to your plans.)

"Liz..." Warwick said softly, hoping his words wouldn't provoke some beast lurking inside her, "It's okay, you know me..." Warwick carefully chose his words, glancing around the forest that enveloped them. If anything were to happen, he would be the only evidence of it, if he had survived. There would be no way to get help. Deep down, far enough away for Warwick to pay attention, he too felt the change in the forest. It didn't bother him at all, but he could tell by how Lizzy trembled that it had been targeted at her.

Without his friend, however, Warwick was lost. The cackling birds seemed to be cackling at him only, and the wind was overpowering. The nip of Grizzleheimian chill sent goosebumps up Warwick's arms and cheeks. Immediately, the heat of confidence and pride were wiped away, making room for only cold. Lizzy stumbled into him. Warwick knew that he had one last attempt to try and stabilize her, and he held her shoulders still.

"Lizzy, can you-" Lizzy latched on in a tight hug. Warwick sighed in relief for the few precious seconds of it; Had it worked? Did she recognize him?

And, as Warwick's heartbeat slowed, she pushed away. "Who are you!?" she snapped, "Leave me alone!" With that, Lizzy tore off into the forest with an unearthly pace. Warwick didn't bother chasing after her. He stayed there, absolutely still for what seemed like hours to him, mouth agape. His arms returned to his sides, and he fell to his knees on the leafy ground, head turned down. He subtly shook it every few minutes in a failed attempt to comprehend what had happened.

It was then that a bright, white light shone through the trees, casting rays onto Warwick where the wood made gaps. He glared up, shielding his eyes.

"I see you have a problem," a being said, emerging from the light. "I am -"

"Oblivion." Warwick felt the words resurface on his tongue. His sudden sense of calm quickly reformed into rage all his own. "You!" he barked, "You did this to me! You did it all!" Warwick's voice boomed, and he backed up a pace.

"You have something lost," she sighed, ignoring him, "And -"

"You will only kill me," Warwick hissed, running in a different direction than Lizzy had. His will was strong, but his strength was waning. Perhaps running, for him, was the only option.

(Making Warwick completely conscious and in his right mind brings on just the same amount of fear and confusion. Thunderchu, by the way, I'd like Warwick not to meet his parents - at least in person - for a very, very long time, if you could make that accommodate to your plans.)

"Liz..." Warwick said softly, hoping his words wouldn't provoke some beast lurking inside her, "It's okay, you know me..." Warwick carefully chose his words, glancing around the forest that enveloped them. If anything were to happen, he would be the only evidence of it, if he had survived. There would be no way to get help. Deep down, far enough away for Warwick to pay attention, he too felt the change in the forest. It didn't bother him at all, but he could tell by how Lizzy trembled that it had been targeted at her.

Without his friend, however, Warwick was lost. The cackling birds seemed to be cackling at him only, and the wind was overpowering. The nip of Grizzleheimian chill sent goosebumps up Warwick's arms and cheeks. Immediately, the heat of confidence and pride were wiped away, making room for only cold. Lizzy stumbled into him. Warwick knew that he had one last attempt to try and stabilize her, and he held her shoulders still.

"Lizzy, can you-" Lizzy latched on in a tight hug. Warwick sighed in relief for the few precious seconds of it; Had it worked? Did she recognize him?

And, as Warwick's heartbeat slowed, she pushed away. "Who are you!?" she snapped, "Leave me alone!" With that, Lizzy tore off into the forest with an unearthly pace. Warwick didn't bother chasing after her. He stayed there, absolutely still for what seemed like hours to him, mouth agape. His arms returned to his sides, and he fell to his knees on the leafy ground, head turned down. He subtly shook it every few minutes in a failed attempt to comprehend what had happened.

It was then that a bright, white light shone through the trees, casting rays onto Warwick where the wood made gaps. He glared up, shielding his eyes.

"I see you have a problem," a being said, emerging from the light. "I am -"

"Oblivion." Warwick felt the words resurface on his tongue. His sudden sense of calm quickly reformed into rage all his own. "You!" he barked, "You did this to me! You did it all!" Warwick's voice boomed, and he backed up a pace.

"You have something lost," she sighed, ignoring him, "And -"

"You will only kill me," Warwick hissed, running in a different direction than Lizzy had. His will was strong, but his strength was waning. Perhaps running, for him, was the only option.

OOC: Gah, sorry, Hank! I've been visiting my grandparents for a little bit now (and will be until Monday), so that means that I can't log on to any KI downloaded games, and I didn't feel very confident about assuming Nidavellir was in Wintertusk. I wanted to check so badly but didn't quite have the ability to. Sorry about the mix-up! I'm sure I can weasel it into the story though somehow... btw Des, I thought your post was absolutely fantastic! I'm excited to see where this goes. Another one of those moments where I wish there was some way I could help...

~As Lizzy sat patiently, the bear scurried around the ship, tightening rope and letting loose sails, adjusting things that she didn't even know existed. At one point he paused and turned around to look at her. "Lizzy, I've never heard of a 'Nidavellir' in Wintertusk. Are you talking about the one behind the waterfall?" The bear pointed a long claw in a different direction behind her, and as she turned around to look, her eyes widened. Yes, that was right, Nidavellir wasn't in Wintertusk, it's in Grizzleheim. Then she frowned, which although felt comfortable for the girl who did it, it looked completely unnatural, like frowning was against everything she ever knew. Why did he call her 'Lizzy'?

Ha! What a stupid name. Lizzy. Sounds like tizzy or dizzy. This weird bear seems to think that my name sounds like someone's disoriented.

Thus without another word, the blonde swashbuckler stood up and marched away, under the waterfall and over to yet another bear, this one clad in brown armor and guarding the entrance to this huge door.

"Let me in." Said the girl who didn't know her name was Lizzy, her hands on her hips. Her negative air and unnatural scowl were immediately noticed.

"Lizzy," the bear recognized her, amazed by how much she had grown since he had last seen her four years ago, "are you okay?"

"Of course I'm fine! I've never been better! Now let me in."

The Bear furrowed his eyebrows. No, he didn't recognize this girl, for Lizzy would never behave that way. Very well, if this out-lander wanted to go to her doom, so be it. He opened the doors and nodded to her, which she responded with a flip of her hair and marched in defiantly.

She was instantly greeted by an ancient magic, and as she gazed around, she felt more and more comfortable. In the walls on either side of three giant doors were huge paintings of Giants and Dragons, and on the left side of the bridge that she stood on, there were large crystals with blue/white magical sparks floating around the ice. The sparkles drifted away and glided over to the swashbuckler, lightly touching her skin. At first she flinched at each one, but as the sparkles fluttered around her and whispered to her, she began to return to herself as she listened to what they had to say.

(Making Warwick completely conscious and in his right mind brings on just the same amount of fear and confusion. Thunderchu, by the way, I'd like Warwick not to meet his parents - at least in person - for a very, very long time, if you could make that accommodate to your plans.)

"Liz..." Warwick said softly, hoping his words wouldn't provoke some beast lurking inside her, "It's okay, you know me..." Warwick carefully chose his words, glancing around the forest that enveloped them. If anything were to happen, he would be the only evidence of it, if he had survived. There would be no way to get help. Deep down, far enough away for Warwick to pay attention, he too felt the change in the forest. It didn't bother him at all, but he could tell by how Lizzy trembled that it had been targeted at her.

Without his friend, however, Warwick was lost. The cackling birds seemed to be cackling at him only, and the wind was overpowering. The nip of Grizzleheimian chill sent goosebumps up Warwick's arms and cheeks. Immediately, the heat of confidence and pride were wiped away, making room for only cold. Lizzy stumbled into him. Warwick knew that he had one last attempt to try and stabilize her, and he held her shoulders still.

"Lizzy, can you-" Lizzy latched on in a tight hug. Warwick sighed in relief for the few precious seconds of it; Had it worked? Did she recognize him?

And, as Warwick's heartbeat slowed, she pushed away. "Who are you!?" she snapped, "Leave me alone!" With that, Lizzy tore off into the forest with an unearthly pace. Warwick didn't bother chasing after her. He stayed there, absolutely still for what seemed like hours to him, mouth agape. His arms returned to his sides, and he fell to his knees on the leafy ground, head turned down. He subtly shook it every few minutes in a failed attempt to comprehend what had happened.

It was then that a bright, white light shone through the trees, casting rays onto Warwick where the wood made gaps. He glared up, shielding his eyes.

"I see you have a problem," a being said, emerging from the light. "I am -"

"Oblivion." Warwick felt the words resurface on his tongue. His sudden sense of calm quickly reformed into rage all his own. "You!" he barked, "You did this to me! You did it all!" Warwick's voice boomed, and he backed up a pace.

"You have something lost," she sighed, ignoring him, "And -"

"You will only kill me," Warwick hissed, running in a different direction than Lizzy had. His will was strong, but his strength was waning. Perhaps running, for him, was the only option.

Think about the simple things, whispered one,

then get to more complicated things. Added another.

You will return to yourself in no time, said another still,

and be able to help your friends. Finished the last.

"Thank you." Lizzy murmured under her breath. She sighed, allowing the magic of this wonderful place to cleanse her spirit. After a moment she spoke softly. "My name is Elizabeth Tudor. I am fourteen years old. I go by Lizzy. My brother calls me Lil' Liz. My parents died in a storm. A leviathan attacked them, and I saw it happen. I barely managed to get away and found myself in Grizzleheim with a scar that never healed." Lizzy lightly touched her left arm, where under the clothing she could feel her burned scar from so many years ago still sensitive, still smaller, still weaker then the right. "My brother found himself in Darkmoor. He's a witchdoctor. He learned hoodoo there. I am a swashbuckler, never able to lift the swords or shields of the bears, and I used my wolf fang dagger for most of my life. I am now a fencer. I use dual armada battle angel rapiers. Morgan Lafitte taught me how to fence, and the Honor Code..."

She continued for a little while, her sentences becoming more and more complicated as she spoke to the air about her past. Each sentence she said with more confidence. She spoke about her connections with each of her friends, how she met each one and what happened when they did meet. Lizzy took in a deep breath and gazed around some more as she spoke.

"My name is Elizabeth Tudor." She gazed at the paintings of the giants and the dragons, drinking in every detail, every paw mark, every color. "I am fourteen years old." Under her fur boots was a wonderful painting of a tree and a rainbow, on the left side was a moon and a starry night sky while on the right was a wonderfully warm sun. "And I am a member of The Golden Gryphon Crew." She took in a deep breath once more and smiled, striding up to a little grendel. He glared up at her.

The grendel glared up at her, speaking in a language that she didn't recognize.

"Thank you." She examined the potion still in her hand, with the note on it that she recognized as Connor's handwriting. Oh, she wanted so badly to go back into the forest and find Warwick, comfort Alex. She wanted her life to be simple, to race through the trees as a six year old girl, giggling and enjoying all of the greenery. But no, going back into the forest would potentially make her loose more of her memory, and she didn't want to be frightened into accidentally hurting one of her friends. Lizzy believed that she was doing the best thing by staying here and greeting Connor. And there was no way she could undo her life, start afresh and return to her oblivious youth.

OOC: This role play is definitely my favorite, I love how it's turned out. Lizzy, moumantai, ya can't win em' all, i'm afraid. Just as Benjamin Franklin said, "Do not fear mistakes. You will know failure. Continue to reach out."And Destiny, not saying that Warwick will have to meet his parents, it's just something Connor can propose to get Warwick to join him in Wintertusk. (And may provoke a fight later on )~While waiting for Warwick and Lizzy, Connor decided to delve further into his memories. He remembered that his current location, Nidavellir, was the exact spot that Connor and Hank had met. Later on, Hank had made a clockwork battling group, and he called his new crew The Power Between Worlds. This was the first meeting place, as Hank was talking with his new crew about ways to spoil the Armada's plans. The group never gave up, even after their meeting place was destroyed, and over half the crew nearly died, no thanks to the Armada. Connor was quite glad to be a part of The Power Between Worlds.~Connor relaxed when he saw Lizzy come through the door. He wasn't sure she would come. "Right then." Connor said. "I have a very important matter to discuss, but first......where is Warwick? I was hoping he'd come as well. If you know, Lizzy, then let's go." Connor handed Lizzy a mysterious box, then began plotting.

OOC: Hey Lizzy, as for the box, whatever you decide you want in the box for this role play, that's what is inside.

OOC: This role play is definitely my favorite, I love how it's turned out. Lizzy, moumantai, ya can't win em' all, i'm afraid. Just as Benjamin Franklin said, "Do not fear mistakes. You will know failure. Continue to reach out."And Destiny, not saying that Warwick will have to meet his parents, it's just something Connor can propose to get Warwick to join him in Wintertusk. (And may provoke a fight later on )~While waiting for Warwick and Lizzy, Connor decided to delve further into his memories. He remembered that his current location, Nidavellir, was the exact spot that Connor and Hank had met. Later on, Hank had made a clockwork battling group, and he called his new crew The Power Between Worlds. This was the first meeting place, as Hank was talking with his new crew about ways to spoil the Armada's plans. The group never gave up, even after their meeting place was destroyed, and over half the crew nearly died, no thanks to the Armada. Connor was quite glad to be a part of The Power Between Worlds.~Connor relaxed when he saw Lizzy come through the door. He wasn't sure she would come. "Right then." Connor said. "I have a very important matter to discuss, but first......where is Warwick? I was hoping he'd come as well. If you know, Lizzy, then let's go." Connor handed Lizzy a mysterious box, then began plotting.

OOC: Hey Lizzy, as for the box, whatever you decide you want in the box for this role play, that's what is inside.

(I'm trying out a new phrasing style...bear with me!)-Warwick wasn't sick of hiding.

No, one couldn't possibly be sick of hiding when the only alternative was a high-speed chase where the one who could have hidden ended up two legs short of an even pace. The unfamiliar, low-hanging tree boughs slapped him in the face as he ran, wolves trailing behind him just yards away. They grabbed at his ankles, or his armor - whatever lagged behind, ultimately - and missed by pure unluckiness.

Get across the river, Warwick reminded himself as he leaped over fallen tree trunks and tripped over roots, They can't attack you in Northguard. They can't. Warwick, even though he ran on two legs, still had the speed and perseverance that he had practically owned in his Navy days. Within minutes, the crystal blue waters of the massive dividing river were shown to Warwick through the trees. Estimating the depth by the roar, Warwick leaped from the ground, tumbling into the river and letting himself be pulled to Northguard, as he kept his head above water.

Nidavellir, Nidavellir, Nidavellir.

-

Upon reaching the shore, Warwick spent some time sitting there, wringing his hair out and stretching his hamstrings. A bear approached him, looking off into the distance, yet addressing Warwick with a nod of the head. Warwick shrunk. He hadn't yet met so many bears as to get used to the dimensional difference. He stood, still a leaf on an autumn day.

"It's cold," the bear said, simply, "You'll freeze." Warwick was handed a thick fur. He looked down at it, tracing his hand over the patterns made into it, then putting the cape-long item over his shoulders. He held it together as the cold really took effect, now that he was calm enough to notice. He tied two corners together and walked alone, looking to the ground. He thought for a moment on how funny it would have been to see a non-wizarding human wearing a fur cape over Aquilan armor and sometimes acting as if he owned the place.

"Thank you." Lizzy murmured under her breath. She sighed, allowing the magic of this wonderful place to cleanse her spirit. After a moment she spoke softly. "My name is Elizabeth Tudor. I am fourteen years old. I go by Lizzy. My brother calls me Lil' Liz. My parents died in a storm. A leviathan attacked them, and I saw it happen. I barely managed to get away and found myself in Grizzleheim with a scar that never healed." Lizzy lightly touched her left arm, where under the clothing she could feel her burned scar from so many years ago still sensitive, still smaller, still weaker then the right. "My brother found himself in Darkmoor. He's a witchdoctor. He learned hoodoo there. I am a swashbuckler, never able to lift the swords or shields of the bears, and I used my wolf fang dagger for most of my life. I am now a fencer. I use dual armada battle angel rapiers. Morgan Lafitte taught me how to fence, and the Honor Code..."

She continued for a little while, her sentences becoming more and more complicated as she spoke to the air about her past. Each sentence she said with more confidence. She spoke about her connections with each of her friends, how she met each one and what happened when they did meet. Lizzy took in a deep breath and gazed around some more as she spoke.

"My name is Elizabeth Tudor." She gazed at the paintings of the giants and the dragons, drinking in every detail, every paw mark, every color. "I am fourteen years old." Under her fur boots was a wonderful painting of a tree and a rainbow, on the left side was a moon and a starry night sky while on the right was a wonderfully warm sun. "And I am a member of The Golden Gryphon Crew." She took in a deep breath once more and smiled, striding up to a little grendel. He glared up at her.

The grendel glared up at her, speaking in a language that she didn't recognize.

"Thank you." She examined the potion still in her hand, with the note on it that she recognized as Connor's handwriting. Oh, she wanted so badly to go back into the forest and find Warwick, comfort Alex. She wanted her life to be simple, to race through the trees as a six year old girl, giggling and enjoying all of the greenery. But no, going back into the forest would potentially make her loose more of her memory, and she didn't want to be frightened into accidentally hurting one of her friends. Lizzy believed that she was doing the best thing by staying here and greeting Connor. And there was no way she could undo her life, start afresh and return to her oblivious youth.

Lizzy, the girl who now knew exactly who she was, waited.

[I really hope you guys don't mind me jumping in here, I've been reading for a while and have been looking for a decent spot to join. Although I'm not going to use any of my pirates for this I'm going to sneak my wizard in instead, just to make things a little interesting.]

Unknown to the blond pirate, the Grendel wasn't the only other being in Nidavellir. A young woman had walked out of the third set of doors just as Lizzy was in the middle of clearing her mind. The woman stood quietly in the doorway watching the strange girl talk to herself while examining the ancient carvings.

I guess magic can do strange things to people who aren't prepared.

The woman continued to quietly watch as the blond girl walked up to the Grendel and began talking to it, as if it could actually understand the common trader tongue of the Spiral. Finally, with a sly grin growing across her face, the woman spoke in a clear voice, devoid of any perceptible accent.

"It's never a good sign when you start talking aloud to yourself, or to grendels for that matter."

Lizzy jumped, almost dropping the potion she was holding, she clearly had thought that she had been alone.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist, I'm a bit fond of making good entrances." the young woman said as she slung a large black bow over her shoulder, "And don't worry if you smell smoke, I'm also quite fond of setting fires."

The smell of smoke and burning material was actually quite strong, and Lizzy even noticed that not only were there faint wisps of smoke drifting off the woman, but that her black and red armor appeared to be slightly smoldering.

"I'm Mackenzie Stormhammer by the way, what class are you?"

[OOC: Mackenzie is a pyromancer, and I've put her in her mid twenties since she had been around the spiral longer than the pirates have. She's of average height, had long red hair (again) usually tied back in a ponytail. She's currently wearing a set of armor from Avalon, coloured black with red accents, no helmet or hat, and a pair of high heeled boots (specifically, the witch's boots from the w101 Halloween costume). Finally, Mackenzie uses a magically infused bow, not a wand.]

My thanksgiving was great, despite my sis got the stomach flu before she got to eat anything and then my parents caught it, then my other sister, and now I am catching it.... But it was good food. For the record, you pretty much perfected one of the ways Oblivion works her powers- but the RP she first appeared in was called 'Amnesiac Aberrations' for a reason...

~

Oblivion seemed to smile, just a little, sadistically. A sense of torment from some kid by the name of Warwick's memories resonated, and she had managed to catch on to the aura, as if she had a remote to the tv and was hitting replay over and over and over. The white-clad queen then turned back to Alex, who still seemed a bit frantic. Maybe even a little bit scared or surprised. Oh well, she'll be fine soon...

"As I said, I can help you with your situation..." She nearly whispered, but still audible enough for the alchemist to hear her words. "But it comes with a cost- actually, it sort of builds up that. You say your past has made you weak, correct? You think you feel so many sad emotions like envy, fear, and sadness due to torments of your past as well?" Alex bitterly nodded, dabbing away the crystal-like tears that remained lingering at the corners of her eyelids. "And now you have those two, Elizabeth and Warwick, contributing to these. All of these torments are fragments of your memory, and they will only hurt you more with every step of the way." Alex was starting to think she realized where Oblivion was going.

"Y-You mean...?" She drawled, stuttering again. She remained silent afterwards to hear what Oblivion would say next to her.

Oblivion nodded gravely- an indication of how serious this was. "Now, you have a choice.... Amnesia could help to repair these injuries to your soul and emotions, but also damage you a little bit. It is a grim choice, as I mentioned. You do not have to accept this, but it is your choice."

"Confiscating my memories... How much of them?" Alex asked, her interest increasing.

Oblivion smiled. "All of which cause you pain, and instability."

To the alchemist, it was beginning to sound pretty tempting.

(OOC: Okay, now I just feel hurt....)

Alex wavered on the offer, violet eyes contemplating. The alchemist was caught in a dilemma of decision. She could surrender her past and start over her life, or she could live in shadows with nightmares continuing to haunt her every rest. Just as she began to speak to decide on the offer, a cleaver cut through her starting words... Quite literally.

"Leave her alone," a familiar voice resonated through the woods. "Oblivion, your place is back in Veneera. Do you not believe Margaret and Elysia and every other citizen there will not worry for you? I know Margaret, and she's easily stressed. Go back to Cross Port, or Incandescent Plateau, well, I could care less as long as you are out of the way!"

Oblivion seemed surprised herself, and found herself speechless. The queen lingered on her words..."I said. Leave." Sunbeams gleamed on the surface of a hatchet's blade. "Now. Did we not say that if you took away another and drained them of their memories we would hunt you down?"

Oblivion finally managed to speak. "You have no business here. But due to my reluctant promise, I suppose it is customary that I depart." She hesitated. She knew the person behind the cover of leaves and trees, and she had changed much since she last saw her... Something had happened to her since the Veneerian incident, and it wasn't pretty. "Fine." The Queen waved her staff, albeit the obvious reluctance, and disappeared.

"I should be hearing a thank you." A young woman, about seventeen or eighteen, stepped out. Short blonde hair and cerulean eyes, wearing an monochromatic ensemble with almost no color. "But I need to depart!" As fast as she had appeared, Emma Everhart disappeared into shadow.

Alex stood, and backed away. The psychotic Musketeer was gone in only a second.... Thank god. She had helped her though, not harming her or killing her like she believed she intended. Emma was a psycho, but she had helped her. Alexandra turned and sprinted blindly to where she thought Nidavellir was, advancing in surprise and fear. The psycho had helped her. She darted through the doors, fear plaguing her footsteps.

Alex wavered on the offer, violet eyes contemplating. The alchemist was caught in a dilemma of decision. She could surrender her past and start over her life, or she could live in shadows with nightmares continuing to haunt her every rest. Just as she began to speak to decide on the offer, a cleaver cut through her starting words... Quite literally.

"Leave her alone," a familiar voice resonated through the woods. "Oblivion, your place is back in Veneera. Do you not believe Margaret and Elysia and every other citizen there will not worry for you? I know Margaret, and she's easily stressed. Go back to Cross Port, or Incandescent Plateau, well, I could care less as long as you are out of the way!"

Oblivion seemed surprised herself, and found herself speechless. The queen lingered on her words..."I said. Leave." Sunbeams gleamed on the surface of a hatchet's blade. "Now. Did we not say that if you took away another and drained them of their memories we would hunt you down?"

Oblivion finally managed to speak. "You have no business here. But due to my reluctant promise, I suppose it is customary that I depart." She hesitated. She knew the person behind the cover of leaves and trees, and she had changed much since she last saw her... Something had happened to her since the Veneerian incident, and it wasn't pretty. "Fine." The Queen waved her staff, albeit the obvious reluctance, and disappeared.

"I should be hearing a thank you." A young woman, about seventeen or eighteen, stepped out. Short blonde hair and cerulean eyes, wearing an monochromatic ensemble with almost no color. "But I need to depart!" As fast as she had appeared, Emma Everhart disappeared into shadow.

Alex stood, and backed away. The psychotic Musketeer was gone in only a second.... Thank god. She had helped her though, not harming her or killing her like she believed she intended. Emma was a psycho, but she had helped her. Alexandra turned and sprinted blindly to where she thought Nidavellir was, advancing in surprise and fear. The psycho had helped her. She darted through the doors, fear plaguing her footsteps.

(Did I do something wrong? I'm incredibly sorry for hurting you...please let me know how I can alter my ways.)

Alex wavered on the offer, violet eyes contemplating. The alchemist was caught in a dilemma of decision. She could surrender her past and start over her life, or she could live in shadows with nightmares continuing to haunt her every rest. Just as she began to speak to decide on the offer, a cleaver cut through her starting words... Quite literally.

"Leave her alone," a familiar voice resonated through the woods. "Oblivion, your place is back in Veneera. Do you not believe Margaret and Elysia and every other citizen there will not worry for you? I know Margaret, and she's easily stressed. Go back to Cross Port, or Incandescent Plateau, well, I could care less as long as you are out of the way!"

Oblivion seemed surprised herself, and found herself speechless. The queen lingered on her words..."I said. Leave." Sunbeams gleamed on the surface of a hatchet's blade. "Now. Did we not say that if you took away another and drained them of their memories we would hunt you down?"

Oblivion finally managed to speak. "You have no business here. But due to my reluctant promise, I suppose it is customary that I depart." She hesitated. She knew the person behind the cover of leaves and trees, and she had changed much since she last saw her... Something had happened to her since the Veneerian incident, and it wasn't pretty. "Fine." The Queen waved her staff, albeit the obvious reluctance, and disappeared.

"I should be hearing a thank you." A young woman, about seventeen or eighteen, stepped out. Short blonde hair and cerulean eyes, wearing an monochromatic ensemble with almost no color. "But I need to depart!" As fast as she had appeared, Emma Everhart disappeared into shadow.

Alex stood, and backed away. The psychotic Musketeer was gone in only a second.... Thank god. She had helped her though, not harming her or killing her like she believed she intended. Emma was a psycho, but she had helped her. Alexandra turned and sprinted blindly to where she thought Nidavellir was, advancing in surprise and fear. The psycho had helped her. She darted through the doors, fear plaguing her footsteps.

Warwick followed Alex in, more confident with another person by his side. He wasn't sure what was wrong with Lizzy, or who the wizard was, but there had to be some sort of answer to the situation. He skidded to a stop in the center of a large tile, glancing at all of the surrounding paintings. They depicted what Warwick supposed was war, but he found himself only to be a pair of eyes among them. The loneliness once again ensued.

For such a long time, Warwick had pretended that the war in Marleybone was the only one occurring. He hadn't ever been sent towards any other places to scope out the violence, and he realized that it resided everywhere. Warwick didn't know that wizards had wars, though. He just supposed that they...talked everything out. The magic in the area was as well overwhelming. It made Warwick feel lighter. (Was this why Wizards could run so fast?) The sounds around him began focused.

"What...what is this place?" Warwick whispered, his hushed voice growing louder due to the room's acoustics, "And where is Connor?"

Warwick followed Alex in, more confident with another person by his side. He wasn't sure what was wrong with Lizzy, or who the wizard was, but there had to be some sort of answer to the situation. He skidded to a stop in the center of a large tile, glancing at all of the surrounding paintings. They depicted what Warwick supposed was war, but he found himself only to be a pair of eyes among them. The loneliness once again ensued.

For such a long time, Warwick had pretended that the war in Marleybone was the only one occurring. He hadn't ever been sent towards any other places to scope out the violence, and he realized that it resided everywhere. Warwick didn't know that wizards had wars, though. He just supposed that they...talked everything out. The magic in the area was as well overwhelming. It made Warwick feel lighter. (Was this why Wizards could run so fast?) The sounds around him began focused.

"What...what is this place?" Warwick whispered, his hushed voice growing louder due to the room's acoustics, "And where is Connor?"

"Oh, more people!" Mackenzie cried as Warwick's voice echoed around the expansive room.

"Welcome to Nidavellir, the gateway to Grizzelheim's underworld!" Mackenzie continued, her smirk growing into a full smile, "Or at least this hall is named for the gateway to the underworld, It's actually more of a monument to the Ice Giant's role in the First War. Strange though, they only seem to depict the Giants defeating the Fire Dragons, I've always been told it was the other way around. Anyways, these three large doors each lead to a different test. The first one is Helgrind Warren where applicants test themselve against the fury of nature itself. The second doorway leads to the Hall of Valor, where warriors must face the repulsive Jotun and his brothers, finally, the third doorway, Winterdeep Warren leads to a great labyrinth designed to test one's wisdom and cunning. But I don't think you're here for the tests are you?"

Mackenzie's face grew more thoughtfull, and a bit darker as she finished her overly long greeting, "No, you're not wizards at all are you? But you do have a touch of magic on you, or more of a taint perhaps? You've all had a run in with Oblivion haven't you?

OOC: Welcome to Roleplay IV, Scarlet! I'm excited to learn more about Mackenzie and I think it's a great idea to bring a wizard into the thread.

Emma, I'm sorry that you and your family got the stomach flu for thanksgiving... quite the way to celebrate the holidays. I hope that it wasn't too bad, though I understand that the stomach flu, no matter the degree of severity, is uncomfortable to go through at any time. My mom was sick over the holidays as well, and she had several days where she could hardly leave her bed. She's still got cold-like symptoms, though they've gotten softer and she's almost back to full health. None of the rest of us got sick, though my mom being in such a situation definitely scared me, I got really stressed one day and just had to tear something up -- thank goodness my water bottle's label was nearby. I felt I would have exploded if I didn't do something.

Hank, do you have any ideas about what's inside the box? I've been thinking about it and I can't seem to figure out something that's satisfying enough to me, as each time I read your posts I continue to learn about Connor and I don't really know what he would give to Lizzy. I've had a few ideas, but I'd like to first know before I react to it, do you have any ideas for the box?

Des, I thought you did a great job with your new phrasing style. The first sentence of your writing definitely grabbed my attention, and you continued to hold it throughout the rest of the post. Nice job, I look forward to reading more posts like this in the future!

Before I hop back into the roleplay (so so sorry for being away for so long), I want to know, what order should we make the characters appear? We're all in Nidavellir, but, was Hank the first one there, or was Lizzy? Also, did Alex enter before Warwick? And, as for Mackenzie, how long has she been there and known what was going on?

OOC: Welcome to Roleplay IV, Scarlet! I'm excited to learn more about Mackenzie and I think it's a great idea to bring a wizard into the thread.

Emma, I'm sorry that you and your family got the stomach flu for thanksgiving... quite the way to celebrate the holidays. I hope that it wasn't too bad, though I understand that the stomach flu, no matter the degree of severity, is uncomfortable to go through at any time. My mom was sick over the holidays as well, and she had several days where she could hardly leave her bed. She's still got cold-like symptoms, though they've gotten softer and she's almost back to full health. None of the rest of us got sick, though my mom being in such a situation definitely scared me, I got really stressed one day and just had to tear something up -- thank goodness my water bottle's label was nearby. I felt I would have exploded if I didn't do something.

Hank, do you have any ideas about what's inside the box? I've been thinking about it and I can't seem to figure out something that's satisfying enough to me, as each time I read your posts I continue to learn about Connor and I don't really know what he would give to Lizzy. I've had a few ideas, but I'd like to first know before I react to it, do you have any ideas for the box?

Des, I thought you did a great job with your new phrasing style. The first sentence of your writing definitely grabbed my attention, and you continued to hold it throughout the rest of the post. Nice job, I look forward to reading more posts like this in the future!

Before I hop back into the roleplay (so so sorry for being away for so long), I want to know, what order should we make the characters appear? We're all in Nidavellir, but, was Hank the first one there, or was Lizzy? Also, did Alex enter before Warwick? And, as for Mackenzie, how long has she been there and known what was going on?

You're back! I was so afraid that the roleplay had died, as it would have without you. But I'm once again calmed and overjoyed by seeing your post.

Nidavellir Order:

Mackenzie was there, already, and so was Connor, I think. Lizzy came in, next. Then was Warwick, who has no clue as to what is going on in the very slightest. Not sure if Hank is there...?